


Shower Head

by nothing_is_beautiful_and_true



Series: For Want of a Grail [2]
Category: Fate/Zero
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom/sub Undertones, Drama, F/M, Gilgamesh isn't very nice in this, Kinda sorta maybe, Romance, hell if I even know anything, seriously I rate it G for Gilgamesh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 07:31:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11413161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothing_is_beautiful_and_true/pseuds/nothing_is_beautiful_and_true
Summary: Gilgamesh doesn't believe in masturbating.Sequel to Dead End.





	Shower Head

_“You must have a cigarette. A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want?”_

Hot, pressurized water sprayed out of the shower nozzle.

It soaked into Gilgamesh’s thick blonde hair, dripped down his elegant face, pooled in the cavity where his neck met his shoulder, slipped between the muscles defining his chest, the flat plane of his stomach, his firm ass and cock, his shaped calves, and ended at his feet. He wriggled his toes and watched the water swirl down the drain.

The shower was a clever creation, Gilgamesh decided. How the modern mongrels of the era created such a genius invention, he hadn’t yet established. He splayed one hand against the smooth, ceramic wall and stared at it, slick and wet and glistening under the fluorescent lighting. 

Recently his hand glistened in a similar manner, but not with water. Gilgamesh smirked at the memory, and then pouted. Steam thickened and swirled about him. Hot needles pricked his skin. He released a forlorn sigh.

Gilgamesh had done something out-of-character.

A once-in-a-lifetime whim, even. He found himself puzzling over the act, turning it over in his mind. Perhaps it was a reaction to uncovering something beautiful in this disgusting new world. How fitting that a relic of the past granted flesh provided the answer he sought.

He thought about Arturia. Was she back in the castle? Was she thinking about him, too? Of course she was. She had to be. He’d just finger fucked her.

Gilgamesh sighed again and rubbed expensive soap over his muscular body. That brief period in the dead end, when he had the little northern king alone, remained etched behind his eyelids like a carving on the wall. If he’d so desired, she probably would’ve sucked him dry then and there. Even thinking about it turned him on.

And Gilgamesh considered it, he considered a lot of things while she moaned under his divine touch. Arturia’s cries had been like a sweet nectar. It took quite a bit of willpower on his end not to turn her around and bend her over and ride her until she screamed.

He hadn’t expected Arturia to surprise him, though. He certainly hadn’t expected her to crack a joke post-orgasm, of all things. It had been funny, though, and confirmed that she was the epitome of hilarity.

Then Gilgamesh committed an action he hadn’t even realized he was capable of. An act of – restraint? He stopped laughing, set Arturia on the ground, straightened her clothes, and beamed. Then he reverted to spirit form and vanished, leaving her staring, astonished, after his invisible form. He became hard just recalling the look on her face.

Unfortunately, while it had been a clever move in the mental chess match they were playing, it hadn’t alleviated his nigh painful erection. Gilgamesh pleasured himself then and there, a few hundred feet from Arturia. Now he was cleaning up in the shower _and_ he was aroused again. This bothered Gilgamesh.

He didn’t believe in masturbation.

Well, for the sake of clarity, he didn’t believe _he_ required masturbation. The King of Heroes could easily find someone to satisfy his needs. And yet, the idea of being touched by anyone else while he thought about Arturia struck him as repulsive. Gilgamesh wanted her or no one at all. Everyone else didn’t deserve him.

Gilgamesh grasped his shaft and stroked it. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down. He groaned and closed his eyes. Imagined it was Arturia. Her expression would be firm and focused. Her eyes harbored that delicious self-loathing as she jerked him off. Gilgamesh moaned. He remembered how tight she’d been. It wouldn't surprise him if Arturia had never been penetrated by a man.

Many held a curious preoccupation with being another’s first. He understood it, even if he never before experienced it. With Arturia, he wanted – he wanted to be the one to _defile_ her (a concept influenced by this modern world, perhaps, a notion that he abhorred and thus dismissed). Her purity was both a beautiful lie and an odious truth. The contradiction fascinated him.

Gilgamesh imagined Arturia clenched around his cock.

He sped up. Panted and growled as he worked himself into a frenzy. They _would_ fuck. Of that Gilgamesh was confident. They were two bright suns pulled within one another’s orbit by unnatural means. He needed to have Arturia. Dominate her. Possess her.

Gilgamesh fantasized Arturia as supplicant and submissive. But that did little to stoke his passion. Then he recalled the dancing imprint of flame against skin while they played chess. The concentration on her face as she did everything in her power to beat him. His hips twitched and he thrusted wildly into his hand. The water drove against him. Gilgamesh finished with a grunt. He watched his semen siphon away. White on silver on gold.

“What a waste.”

He turned off the shower and stood there for a long time. Sopping wet and skin gleaming like a newborn babe. Gilgamesh thought about nothing.

Eventually he moved. Grabbed a towel of adequate make and material and dried off. Gilgamesh stared at himself in the mirror. Combed back his hair and then laughed.

Outside the bathroom Kirei Kotomine waited.

“Enjoying yourself, King of Heroes?” he asked.

The false priest walked a dangerous line. Gilgamesh contemplated killing him. But then no one would distract Gilgamesh from the insipid Tohsaka family once they departed. He shuddered at the prospect, as well as at the knowledge that the visit would end.

“Tokiomi should be thankful I have discovered a beautiful treasure,” Gilgamesh said. “It prolongs his existence on this mortal coil.”

Kirei didn’t speak. A brief flash sparked life in his dead eyes. The sight amused Gilgamesh, because he knew it meant the priest thought vile things. However, the law must be made clear.

“Do nothing that would upset Saber.” He despised that title, but he despised Arturia’s name gracing Kirei’s lips even more. The truth of her identity belonged to Gilgamesh and Gilgamesh alone.

The false priest smiled.

…

At dinner that night, Arturia refused to look at him. She bowed her head and ate her food without seeing it.

Gilgamesh was irritated. He disliked being ignored. After some thought, he concluded that Arturia didn’t want to draw the attention of her Master. Gilgamesh decided he could abide this.

Dinner trudged along as per usual. People spoke, conversations monotonous and meaningless. Words that filled space and nothing more. It was detestable and Gilgamesh abhorred everyone there aside from Arturia. Thank the gods the children weren’t invited, that would be too much even accounting for her presence.

Once dinner ended, he stood and approached Arturia. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she wrenched out of his grip. Her expression became affronted.

Everyone else stared at the two. Gilgamesh ignored them.

“We must converse. In private.” He folded his arms.

“No. We shall not,” Arturia said.

“Why not?” he demanded. Her denial puzzled him. She didn’t answer.

“Archer.” Tokiomi. Gilgamesh's shoulders tensed and he fixed the mage with a venomous stare. The doll fluttered its hands and emitted an anxious noise. Arturia’s Master appeared disinterested.

“Deal with it, Tokiomi,” Jubstacheit said. The dining room cleared out. Arturia followed behind the doll. Her back was turned so that Gilgamesh couldn’t read her face, which further irritated him. He shifted the brunt of his ire upon Tokiomi.

“How dare you.”

“We are allies with the von Einzberns. I cannot have you hounding after their Servant like she’s a bitch in heat –.”

“How _dare_ you.” Now Gilgamesh became outraged. And, perhaps, grudgingly impressed. Maybe Tokiomi had a spine after all.

“I apologize. You’re right, that was uncalled for.” Or not. “Please, great King of Heroes. I beseech you. This alliance is very important. It’s also… malleable.”

Gilgamesh fell silent. Then he vanished.

...

Gilgamesh spent much of the next few days much like when he’d first arrived; in spirit form and observing from a distance. Until he spied Arturia, he hadn’t intended to ever reveal himself at all.

He sulked. The few instances Gilgamesh materialized had been in an effort to seek out Arturia. But she constantly stayed in the company of the doll or the children or all three.

More than that, Gilgamesh realized Arturia was _avoiding_ him.

It left him indignant. He gifted her meaningless pleasure, and this was how she repaid him? The arrogance of the act bothered Gilgamesh. At the same time, he found it alluring. Few things surprised him anymore. When something did, Gilgamesh treasured the sensation.

So he stewed, hid, was rebuffed, and, on occasion, masturbated furiously.

After a particularly galling rebuttal, Gilgamesh instead retreated to a nearby room. He concluded this ridiculous farce was worth getting drunk over. He even brought out wine from his own personal storage, because he tired of the von Einzbern’s passable alcohol. Mediocrity should never be rewarded.

The door creaked open. A small, pale-haired creature poked its head in. The child of the doll. Gilgamesh stared at it.

“Hello,” said it.

It blushed. This pleased Gilgamesh, because it recognized his beauty. As everyone should. Still, its company didn't interest him. Then Gilgamesh considered that Arturia might search for it. He changed his mind.

“You may approach.” He summoned another glass of wine. “And, if you so desire, you may partake.”

It looked amazed and enchanted.

“Papa and Mom say I can’t,” said it.

“You are a child.” His tone was derisive.

It flushed again. Its skin was pale, paler even than Arturia’s. He could see every vein beneath its papery skin. When Arturia blushed, it was subtle. When this thing blushed, it became awash in flame.

“I don’t want to be. I want to become a woman,” said it. Gilgamesh felt amused in spite of himself. Children that tried to act like adults were an entertaining sight. And also a pathetic one.

“Then partake.” He gestured. It hesitated before quickly approaching. Small, grasping hands reached out. Its grip on the cup was awkward and unsure. It gulped and choked. Began coughing. Gilgamesh was offended. “Such a treasure is to be savored.”

It swallowed and breathed in. Then tried again, but slower. “I don’t know if I like it.”

“So drink more and decide.” He grew bored and impatient. For Arturia to lose one of her charges was unlike her. What was she doing? It hiccuped.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” said it. “Rin told me your true name.”

Gilgamesh felt irritated, because it should’ve already known his name. To him, his identity was blatant and obvious. That people failed to see what he made clear with his every action further signaled the world's decay.

“I looked you up, Mr. Gilgamesh.”

Mister…?

He decided he liked the sound of that.

“I thought your story was very sad.”

Gilgamesh’s mood turned ugly.

“Do not bother with what you cannot hope to understand,” he said. It looked hurt and sat down with a wobble. Wine in the goblet splashed onto the hard tile floor. It drank more.

“Saber said I should avoid you. She thinks you are a bad person.”

“Did she now?” Gilgamesh perked. “Did she say anything else?”

It shook its head. He drummed his fingers on the chair in petulant frustration.

“Papa has done bad things in the past, too,” said it. “But that doesn’t make him a bad person.”

“Your father is a fool,” Gilgamesh retorted. It flushed again, but this time with anger.

“He isn’t!” said it.

“He is,” Gilgamesh said.

“He isn’t!”

“He _is_.”

“He isn’t!”

“This fucking conversation is pointless.” Gilgamesh was exasperated. It appeared shocked.

You swore,” said it. “You swore! I heard you! You have to put money in the swear jar now!”

“I will do no such thing. I own this ‘swear jar’, as I own all things,” Gilgamesh said. “You are drunk.”

It hiccuped again and lifted its glass to its lips. Then it blinked and stared at the bottom of the cup.

“Have you no constitution?” Gilgamesh complained. He’d had his first taste of alcohol at a far younger age. It threw him a confused look.

“My Papa and Saber are going to save me and Mom,” said it. “They will take us far away from this horrible castle. Rin will come too.”

Gilgamesh laughed.

“You are also a fool,” he said, “if you think the rest of the world is much better. And the Tohsaka family would throw their own blood to the scavengers. You mean nothing to any of them.”

“There must be somewhere that’s better than here." It slurred its words. “This place is so a-awe-awful, and the world is so big. A-and, Rin told me about her sister. We’ll save her, too. We’ll save everyone. Saber will help. She can do anything.”

“Can she?” Gilgamesh asked. His question was low and soft.

“Yes. I believe in her,” said it. “A-and I believe in Papa too. Together they can do muh-murk-mir….”

“Your father will leave you, as do all fathers. And _Saber_ cannot even save herself,” he said. It started crying.

“T-that isn’t true! You don’t know that!” said it. Tears streamed down its face. Gilgamesh placed his chin in his hand and sighed. He despised children.

The door banged open. Arturia stood there. Her eyes swept the scene. Lingered on Gilgamesh and then locked onto the sobbing child. Her mouth flattened. He straightened. Rage sharpened the room’s atmosphere. Lent it a coldness like the frozen depths of winter.

She was by its side in a heartbeat. Helped it to its feet. Observed its unsteady tread, and then scooped it up in her arms. Arturia walked out of the room without a backward glance.

Gilgamesh stared after them. His mouth dropped open. Such arrogance! This attitude crossed the threshold of cheek into insult. He stood and stared and tried to think of a suitable punishment.

Arturia reappeared and stormed toward Gilgamesh. Her face resembled a thundercloud.

“You –,” Gilgamesh started saying.

Then Arturia head-butted him in the chest.

There was enough force behind the blow that he fell back. His skull cracked against the chair, and the chair shattered. Dazed, Gilgamesh collapsed onto the floor and stared up at the ceiling. A painting of a naked man, clouds conveniently concealing his penis, stared back down at Gilgamesh. Arturia stood over him, apoplectic with fury.

“What is _wrong_ with you?!” she shouted. Gilgamesh didn’t answer due to the burning pain constricting his breast. Was Arturia’s head made of fucking _diamond_? He found his voice.

“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked. Arturia gaped at him.

“That’s what this is about? Are you trying to – what – get my attention?” she demanded. “I’m beginning to realize the only child in this castle is _you_.”

“It approached me. Not the other way around.” Gilgamesh sat up and rubbed the back of his head. He should kill Arturia for committing such an offense. But he didn’t want to, so Gilgamesh pardoned her instead.

“Her. Her. _Her._ ”

“It is unnatural,” he said. She looked like she might strike him again. Gilgamesh laughed.

“If you ever harm Illyasviel again, I’ll kill you,” Arturia promised.

“You may try,” Gilgamesh said with good humor. It was a generous offer. Just being in Arturia’s presence improved his mood. Her eyes darkened. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“Because you are deranged.”

“Interesting. You were singing a different tune a few days earlier.” He smirked. She gritted her teeth.

“That was a one time thing,” Arturia said. “Your decision to take off like some flighty fae is none of my concern.”

“It was clever foreplay,” Gilgamesh complained. She tilted her head and got another one of those rare, sly expressions.

“You regret what you did?”

“I regret _nothing_.” The implication enraged him.

He stepped toward her. Arturia clenched her jaw but faced him. They stared at each other. He looked down and she looked up. His chest ached from the earlier blow. He had an erection.

“She is a child."

“She wants to be a woman.” The concession in pronouns softened Arturia somewhat.

“That is what all children want. Then they grow up and realize what fools they were,” she said.

“They would not if adults did not treat adulthood like it is a secret treasure to be uncovered.”

“Perhaps.” Arturia touched his cheek, the gesture almost absentminded. “Or perhaps if adults didn’t treat childhood like the pinnacle of a hill that only slopes downward ever after.”

Gilgamesh stilled. He placed a hand over hers after a moment. His was just as slender, but longer and darker in color. He could feel her callouses, rough against his soft skin.

“How did she escape you?”

Arturia pulled back. She looked guilty for a moment.

“I was — distracted.” Her tone held an odd tenor.

“That strikes me as out-of-character,” Gilgamesh noted. Arturia’s brow creased.

“Do not deign to know me, Archer.” Her inscrutable mask returned. Gilgamesh felt betrayed.

“I know you in a way no one else does.” He moved into her personal space. Arturia held her ground, although she once more seemed like she wanted to hit him. Gilgamesh flexed his fingers. She would not physically harm him again. Not without his permission, anyway. “I know you as a woman.”

Arturia didn’t respond at first.

“I have never been a woman,” she said. “Are you so arrogant to claim you know me better than I know myself?”

“It can be turned off… like a faucet?” he replied.

It was a question rather than an assertion; Gilgamesh was intrigued. He knew of men who had once been women, but a woman pretending to be a man – not just a man, but a king – was another matter entirely. How did one rule their subjects living a lie? She sent them off to die for her and they never learned the truth. Gilgamesh watched her expression cloud over.

“You know nothing,” Arturia said.

“I know some things, if they are worth my interest.” He smirked. “For example. If a faucet can be turned off, it can also be turned on.”

Suddenly there were hands wrapped around his collar. Once again, he marveled at the strength in her grip. Then Gilgamesh found himself forced to kneel. He blinked. Arturia looked at him. She stood taller now, although short enough that the difference in height was negligible.

Arturia’s face was unreadable. Her green eyes boiled with inner conflict. Gilgamesh realized she was a fool, then. Strange that he wasn't angered. Just curious and entertained and aroused.

“You say I am arrogant?” Gilgamesh asked.

No reply.

He should have been furious. The last time a woman asserted her dominance over Gilgamesh, his rage resulted in his best friend’s death. But Arturia didn’t think she was superior to him. She didn’t think she was superior to _anyone_.

She’d called him selfless, which was a joke of the highest magnitude.

They did not bend, they broke.

Unless…

Gilgamesh dropped his head.

Small fingers touched his chin. She brought his gaze back to hers. Now Arturia looked puzzled. Then she seemed to understand. She leaned in and pressed a kiss against his neck. He could feel her breath on his pulse. A useless act.

Gilgamesh inhaled, too. The sound was sharp and swift.

His touch skated along her hips and onto her back. He could feel dense muscle beneath a sheath of skin. He pulled her closer. Arturia breathed again. She sucked at the sensitive spot near his ear. Her nose brushed against his earring. It clinked.

Either Arturia was a fast learner, or she’d done this before.

She tugged at his hair to get a better angle, and Gilgamesh craned his neck aside in compliance. Arturia persisted. She latched onto the soft juncture where his neck met his shoulder. Teeth scraped flesh and Gilgamesh moaned. The noise encouraged her. She nipped and attended him with a bold tongue.

He whispered her name. Arturia kissed him on the mouth. Gilgamesh drank her in; her lips were cool and soft. She tasted like the river in summer. Arturia sighed and laid him on the floor. It was cold and hard. The naked man in the mural watched them without judgment. Gilgamesh reached up and freed her hair of those restrictive braids. The golden curtain hid them from the world and from themselves. 

Arturia broke the kiss and ran her tongue from the base of his neck to his jaw. Gilgamesh said her name, again, louder and strangled. She straddled him. He slid his hand under her dress and along her thigh. She moved against him. Once. Twice. The pressure felt good. The only way it could’ve felt better was if she was _on_ his cock. Then Arturia pulled back. Her gaze flickered with the light of lust, as well as something else.

“I’ve been negligent of my duties for too long,” she said. It took Gilgamesh a second to process her statement.

“No,” he objected. Arturia scoffed and stood. Gilgamesh frowned but didn’t stop her. Wasn’t sure he _could_ , even. He touched his neck.

There would be bruises.

…

Rin Tohsaka sought Gilgamesh out.

“What did you say to Illya?!” she shouted.

Gilgamesh ignored her. He wouldn’t be spoken to in such a disrespectful manner. He rubbed his neck, an act which soothed his temper.

“Illya is my friend. We have fun together. I can be myself,” Rin said. She sounded sad.

Gilgamesh opened his eyes. Better. Then he looked at her. The derision in his stare could sedate an ox. Rin turned a shade of red similar to her clothes.

“You always ruin everything good and nice,” she said bitterly.

“If it is good and true, _I_ cannot and will not ruin it,” he told her. Stupid girl.

Rin’s mouth opened and closed.

“You know what? You’re right,” she said. “Fuck you, Archer.”

Rin marched out of the room, hands balled into fists. Gilgamesh was incredulous. Then he felt amused.

It was unfortunate, Gilgamesh reflected, that he was stuck with that spineless Tokiomi as a Master instead.

…

Gilgamesh came across a hilarious sight while wandering the castle in spirit form. Arturia was with the doll in the room where they first met. However, all the furniture had been pushed aside. The doll wanted to spar. It was ludicrous.

Arturia’s expression indicated she agreed. She looked resigned.

The doll stood before her, holding a wooden sword. The tip trembled in midair. Weak. Arturia held her own training blade, although it was at her side.

Gilgamesh decided to observe.

As far as he could tell, the fool doll had gotten it into her head to become Arturia’s “squire” (the unfamiliar word, projected into his head not of his own volition, made his lip curl). The farcical nature of the event amused Gilgamesh.

“This isn’t how it should be, Irisviel,” Arturia was saying, “I protect you and Illyasviel. You shouldn’t fight.”

They took a break from their session. The doll wiped sweat from its brow.

“And why not, Saber?” asked the doll.

Oh, but he _hated_ that name.

“Because you're a lady,” Arturia said, like it was obvious. Invisible and muted, Gilgamesh laughed. The doll stared at her. “It's my duty to protect you, not put you further in harm’s way.”

“Saber…” It visibly changed its mind. “I want to help you. Besides, it’s my duty to protect Illyasviel too.”

“What happened yesterday wasn’t your fault.”

“But it is. I have to be better,” said the doll.

This got Gilgamesh’s attention. The pieces of this moronic turn began falling into place. He felt annoyed.

“The only one who failed was me, Irisviel,” Arturia said. Then she tensed as Gilgamesh revealed his presence. His physical body followed.

“What have we here?” he asked, folding his arms. The doll appeared startled.

“Archer,” said it, after recovering. “I want Saber to train me to become a knight. What do you think?”

“It is a terrible and idiotic idea,” he said. “Sheep cannot fight like wolves.”

“Be silent, Archer. Don’t talk about that which you know nothing,” Arturia said. He could feel her gaze on the bruises adorning his neck. Gilgamesh didn’t bother correcting her. He tapped a finger against a crossed bicep.

“I do not care. It is a meaningless trifle at best. Why do you discuss my vassal without my permission?” he asked. Arturia froze. The doll seemed confused.

“What do you mean, Archer?” asked it.

“I gifted that girl some of my personal stores. She belongs to me,” he explained. Now the doll looked shocked.

“What – Illya? But, Saber said…” It trailed off and then glanced at the other Heroic Spirit.

Arturia was silent, carved from rock. Her green eyes blazed out from a pale face. There was no doubting her brewing fury. Gilgamesh smirked.

“Unsurprising. She wants all the blame heaped upon her alone. Really, Arturia, it is quite selfish.” He taunted her. Watched her jaw tighten. A vein in Arturia’s temple throbbed.

“I don’t understand,” said the doll. Gilgamesh sighed through his nose.

“It really is very simple, mongrel. The girl has become my subject. If she has not, then she is a thief. The punishment for thievery is death.” He grinned and felt quite smug.

Arturia summoned her Noble Phantasm and her armor.

“What did I tell you, Archer? Did I not say I would kill you if you harmed Illyasviel?!” she shouted. Arturia faced him, unseen weapon in hand. Interesting.

“I have harmed no one. The first person to draw arms is, in fact, you,” Gilgamesh pointed out. “Do you treat all your allies thus?”

He heard the grinding of her teeth. She stared at him. Blonde bangs framed an indecisive expression. The doll stayed quiet, surveying them with veiled eyes.

“This is my proposal,” he said. “Convince me I am wrong in my judgment and I shall relinquish claim over the girl.”

Arturia snorted.

“I can sooner shift the universe so that the sun revolves around the earth,” she retorted. “However. I will duel you, Archer. I shall stand in as Illyasviel’s champion.”

“You take me for a fool?” Gilgamesh frowned. “Although my general superiority is not to be questioned, I cannot best you in a one-on-one fight.”

Arturia seemed unable to decide whether she’d been flattered or insulted. She adjusted her grip and said nothing. Her eyes clouded over in thought.

“How about this for a fair contest?” He tried a new angle. “I must convince you that ownership of the girl is my right as king. You, meanwhile, must have me yield.”

Arturia considered this. She hesitated. The doll spoke up, then.

“Saber, I don’t like this,” said it. “We should find Kiritsugu.”

“No, this needs to happen,” Arturia said. “I will put Archer in his place.”

“Spoken like a true gentleman,” Gilgamesh noted. Arturia looked angry and a little ashamed.

“Arm yourself already.”

Gilgamesh produced a halberd. Its serrated edge glinted dull grey. He donned his armor, and the golden glow cast long shadows. Arturia stared, brow furrowed. Then she attacked.

When Arturia fought, it was like watching all form stripped from an art piece. Only pure function remained. Beautiful. Gilgamesh parried and stepped back. The length of his weapon allowed him to put space between them. He kept on the defensive, absorbing the glorious sight of her. Arturia was no servant, but a soldier. A King of Soldiers. Gods, he wanted to fuck her senseless.

The invisible weapon nicked his side, and Gilgamesh felt irritated. She was pulling punches. Then again, so was he.

“The girl desires to leave. I can grant her wish,” he said. Arturia ignored him, focused on pressing her offensive. “What does this place offer? Only a dead end future decided by a patriarch that does not have the slightest care for her interests.”

“And you do?” she growled.

“I protect that which is mine,” Gilgamesh said.

They exchanged a flurry of blows. He tested her defenses, and determined a rough estimate of her weapon’s length and breadth. He also knew that King Arthur used a sword christened Excalibur. Sweat dribbled down her neck, made a beeline for the dip beneath her breastplate. He recalled the taste of her nipple on his tongue, then, with sharp clarity. Arturia took advantage of his hesitation and shoulder charged him. Gilgamesh was knocked down and she kicked aside his halberd.

For the second time in the span of two days, Gilgamesh found himself lying flat on the ground. Arturia stood over him. Again. He could feel the cool metal of her blade against his neck. Right on his hickey. Gilgamesh grinned. He could've disarmed her at any time with the Gate of Babylon, but he decided against it.

“Yield,” she said.

“No,” he replied. Incensed, Arturia glared.

“What do you mean, _no_?” she asked. “I _beat_ you.”

“I do not submit,” Gilgamesh said. The pressure against his neck increased.

“If you do not yield, I will kill you.”

“Saber!” The doll made a panicked gesture.

“I do not submit,” he repeated.

“Dammit, Gilgamesh, I don’t want to hurt you.” Arturia sounded frustrated. He blinked. Then he smiled.

Gilgamesh touched her sword with his bare hands, removing it from his vicinity. Arturia didn’t stop him.

“And why is that?”

“You know why,” she muttered. The words were drawn from her with great difficulty. It was an ambiguous statement that could’ve meant several things. Gilgamesh selected his own interpretation.

“I suppose I might, then."

Arturia didn’t respond. But Excalibur disappeared.

…

Gilgamesh was in the shower.

This time he wasn’t alone.

Steam clouded the air. Hot and heavy like the low moans that filled the silence.

Gilgamesh pressed Arturia against the ceramic wall. He slid in and out of her. The rocking of his hips was rhythmic and steady. Water ran in rivulets down their slick bodies.

She was wrapped around him, her teeth sunk into his shoulder. A futile bid to stifle her noises. Her hands clawed and marked his back. They could’ve been mistaken for whip lashes inflicted by a slaver. Arturia was rough enough to break skin.

Blood mingled with water and down the drain. Red on silver on gold.

…

The day came when they needed to depart. They all stood in the airport.

Gilgamesh didn’t look at Arturia and she didn’t look at him, either.

Tokiomi and Arturia’s master exchanged trivial farewells. Why they bothered Gilgamesh couldn't have said even if he wished to know. Neither cared a whit for the other.

“By the way, did you ever uncover Saber’s identity?” Tokiomi later asked, as they walked down the terminal. “I believe her to be Joan of Arc, but confirmation would be useful. Rin couldn’t get anything out of that Illya girl, either.”

Gilgamesh contemplated the request. He became haughty.

“I do not concern myself with bitches in heat.”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually think this is better than Dead End by a landslide. In fact, this might be the best GilArt thing I've ever written. Of course, I'll probably hate it a couple hours from now. 
> 
> This is intended to tie up some of the loose ends and provide a different perspective from Arturia's. I have an idea for a multi-chaptered continuation if people enjoyed this, but it won't happen for some time.


End file.
